Ordinary
by Zylstra
Summary: They met as ordinary people. Well, kind of. Merlin/Arthur fluff. Modern setting, unedited.


Ordinary

Merlin wondered how ordinary people reacted when they suddenly found themselves having the life snogged out of them.

All he could think about was how his cheeks were being squashed around his mouth by hands clumsily holding him in place, and that the nose that bumped against his own was cold. He thought about how his lips were dry and still bore traces of the cappuccino he'd had instead of lunch today, and how the eyelids he studied closely were swollen with tiredness in a way that matched his own. He realised the man's blond hair – it _was _a man kissing him – smelled of apples and iron-based ink, and that a strand of it had fallen out of its pristine arrangement.

Merlin wondered if normal people tried to remember what they'd been doing before this unexpected development – not as a pressing task to give them a justified escape, but more as a fleeting notion in the way that one might consider what to have for dinner that evening. He wondered if, while thinking all these things, normal people would reach up and run their fingers through the man's hair like he did now, since usually at this proximity their own hands would be occupied with zippers or buttons.

Merlin wondered if ordinary people would be embarrassed, this being a public location and all. Perhaps they would worry this would bother the people walked past the park bench on which they were seated. Not that Merlin could tell if there _were_ people walking past at the moment.

Would it be socially acceptable, Merlin thought, to ask the man to pick up the book he'd made him drop into a puddle of melted snow, and should he ask the man to apologise? Only for the book, of course.

What, then, did normalcy dictate happen when they broke apart? Was eye contact out of the question? Conversation? Acting as though nothing had happened? Merlin wondered if he could have found this sort of stuff on Google if he'd had the sense to look.

Suddenly, Merlin found the hands dropping from his face and the eyelids fluttering open. His own fingers fell from the man's hair. He wondered if ordinary people lamented that.

"Oh God," said the man. "I am so sorry." He picked up the book he'd made Merlin drop and brushed water off the paperback cover, but the pages had already begun to clump and wrinkle. "I'll replace this – I'll give you money to replace this." The man pulled out his wallet and pressed two tenners into Merlin's hand.

People were staring at them. Turning a vibrant shade of scarlet, the man waved a hand in their general direction. "I do apologise." The man smoothed the back of his hair, though not sharply enough for the express purpose of tidying it. Merlin didn't quite know what to make of that.

"I was just…" Merlin found himself lost for words.

The man cleared his throat. "Sorry."

They sat in silence for a second. It took Merlin that long to realise that an ordinary person would say something at this stage – but what? A joke? A threat? A comment about the weather? He wasn't sure, so he let something tumble out of his mouth. "I hope your day gets better for you," he blurted.

The man looked taken aback. Merlin winced – perhaps that wasn't exactly the thing normal people would say. "What makes you think…?"

"Nobody does _that_ unless they're having a bad day," Merlin quickly explained, cringing internally.

But the man simply laughed – a little awkwardly, perhaps, but laughed all the same. "Right. Yeah. Sorry."

Merlin relaxed a little. "No problem, uh…" He trailed off, like a letter he didn't know how to address.

"Arthur," the man supplied, a relieved smile spreading over his features.

"I'm Merlin," Merlin replied, offering a hand. Arthur shook it, but his smile weakened into the kind of grimace one might wear when having a particularly sticky healing plaster ripped off. Merlin scratched the niggling sensation of recognition that tugged at him; Arthur seemed to anticipate it and waited patiently. "Oh. Ohhh." Arthur pulled a face. "You're…"

"_That_ Arthur, yes."

"Wow. In that case, I _really_ hope your day gets better for you."

They shared a laugh then. "Well, it has already. A bit."

Merlin wondered if ordinary people would be as willing to endure the awkward silence that followed as much as he was. He guessed they probably wouldn't. "Shall I just...?" He gestured towards the park gates and the bustling street beyond.

"Ah, no," said Arthur, getting to his feet. "You were here before I came and just…you know."

"Right, yeah." Merlin scrubbed at his eyes, suddenly tired. "See you, I guess." He watched Arthur leave out of the corner of his eye, releasing a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. That was that, he supposed.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Arthur suddenly stopped and turned on the spot, calling across the brick path between them. Merlin's eyes swivelled up to meet his. "I hope your day gets better, too."

Merlin blinked. Would normal people have anticipated a farewell like that? He wasn't sure. "How do…"

Arthur shrugged. "Nobody reacts like _that_ unless they're having a bad day."

"I don't suppose they do." Merlin's surprise faded into a grin. "Not ordinary people, anyway."

* * *

Thanks for reading, despite OOCness! Have a lovely day~

This was written because nightmares suck.


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